Empty Hearts
by Barbarian Librarian
Summary: Usually, when faced with 'fight or flight' Scully fights.  But not this time.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is an idea I've had for a fic floating in my head for a few years now, and I'm back in the writing mode again, so I thought it's time to press on. I'm going to post a chapter or two and get a feeler on the story... This gross grey winter sky with drizzling rain I see right now puts me in the mood for dragging you all through an angsty journey... enjoy. :) It will be worth your while, I promise!

Timeline: Season 7ish... nothing else happens after that in this utopian XF world.

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Empty Hearts

Chapter 1

**All your mental armor drags me down,**

**We can't breathe when we come around.**

**All your mental armor drags me down,**

**Nothing hurts... like your mouth.**

**

* * *

**

Dana Scully gazed out the window of her terminal at Washington-Dulles. Rain drops were speckled on the large windows, the clouds grey and low, as autumn began to bleed into winter in Washington, DC.

Sighing deeply, she watched the airplanes take off and touch down. She couldn't help but wonder where everyone was headed. Were they coming home from vacation? Were they going to see family? Friends? Lovers?

Lovers.

Love.

It burned Scully's heart to think about love. She'd just walked out on love. On life, her career, her best friend. Well, it wasn't like she willingly walked out. Mulder had screamed at her to leave. Told her that she held him back.

Even now, she couldn't remember what started the fight. It was a combination of things, as always. She was frustrated where her life was headed. She loved Mulder, desperately, but couldn't tell him. They had both been under the gun with the job lately, and a pretty intense case had left a very brooding Fox Mulder.

"So what else is new?" Scully thought to herself.

Mulder was always brooding about something. He was dark, and while Scully clearly found him physically attractive, she also noted that his darkness was seductive to the point of where it sucked her in, and sucked the life right out of her. It was intense... like looking up and realizing the past seven years have elapsed, and she barely noticed.

It scared her. It was love, and love with Mulder scared her more than anything else.

The only thing that she remembered vividly was the flashing anger in Mulder's eyes as he told her to get out. The anger in his voice. It was unprecedented in their relationship. And it haunted her. It was bone chilling. Something snapped, something happened. And now everything was a mess.

She remembered stumbling stunned and wordless out of the office. Scully had trudged to her car, not even caring what time it was, and she went home. She couldn't eat, all she wanted to do was sleep, sleep forever. She'd awoken at 3am, still in her suit, pumps, and trench coat. That was about the time she began to sob uncontrollably.

Scully's eyes stung with tears at the memory of the fight, not even a week ago. And now here she was, sitting in an airport with half her belongings... the other half somewhere between DC and New Hampshire, in a moving truck.

After the fight with Mulder, she'd put in her letter of resignation with Skinner. Told him it was for real this time. Her friend Meredith from med school had been trying to get her out there to New hampshire for quite some time. Scully finally decided to bite the bullet. And now here she was, after a phone interview, about to be full-time medical faculty at Dartmouth, welding young resident and fellow minds on the joys of forensic pathology.

It seemed so shockingly different. As if some force had take over her body and now she had no idea who she was, about to live some foreign life. Scully felt like she was sinking, or drowning... How did this even happen?

Her mother urged her not to go. Not to give up on Mulder. Margaret Scully had always had a soft spot in her heart for Mulder. But this was a new kind of hurt for Scully. She was angry, she was hurt, she was numb. Her heart was in a million little pieces and her mind kept flashing back to Mulder.

_Get out. I never wanted you here in the first place. You work for me. GET OUT._

The only available response was to leave. Run quickly. Her biological response is always to fight not flight... but in this instance, flight was the only naturally occurring to her. And now here she was.

She wondered where Mulder was now. Probably finding the bottom of a bottle of good scotch, at a seedy bar, somewhere in Georgetown.

Scully couldn't believe him... or the fight... his words... They stabbed her right where it hurt most. She'd sacrificed so much for him, for the X-Files. She's lost so much... her father, Missy, Emily... she'd gotten cancer. She and Mulder had followed each other all over this blessed Earth... and for what?

"American Airlines flight 1013 to Manchester would now like to welcome its first class passengers and Star Alliance members."

Scully grimaced as a single tear rolled down her cheek. The sound of the airline worker jarred her from her thoughts.

That was Scully's cue. She gathered her things, took one last sweeping look through Dulles, accepting that Mulder wasn't coming after her, took a deep breath, and bravely boarded the plane to begin a new chapter in her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Thank you guys so much for the feedback & PMs! You guys know how to make a new girl feel welcome! I'm glad everyone loved the concept of the story. I'm off for a few weeks so my goal is to get 4 or 5 more chapters up before the New Year. :)**

I'm on my knees, only memories

Are left for me to hold

Don't know how.. but Ill get by

Slowly pull myself together

Grace, Kate Havnevik

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Chapter 2

The first sense to come back to Mulder was the sense of smell. Something that smelled like a combination of a dead animal and scotch wafted through his nostrils. Cringing at the putrid smell, his sense of touch came back, like a rush. He felt the hard wood floor he was laying on, he felt the sickness in his stomach, he felt his head begin to pound in cadence with his heart.

Mulder realized he was laying on the living room floor of his apartment.

Sitting up slowly, the dizziness and nausea settled in. Checking his watch, realizing it was morning now, he began to piece the previous night back together.

He remembered Skinner earlier in the day... he remembered seeing the guys...

It had been day six without Scully at work. He thought she'd taken personal days after their argument. He couldn't blame her. After the fight, the guilt ate him alive. Scully knew cases involving young girls reminded him of Samantha, but that was no excuse for him to fly off the handle.

Flying off the handle was the understatement of the century. It was a culmination of things. The case, the recent tension between the two at the office, and the fact that Langly mentioned something about a guy from cyber crimes was hard-pressed for Scully... that really ate at him.

He didn't even know if Scully was interested in him, or even knew him, really. What he did know is that a random man from cyber crimes could offer Scully more of a life than he ever could, even if she did want him. Mulder was unstable, unpredictable, and lived a life where if something came down at 3am on Christmas Eve, he had no qualms about picking up and flying across the country, to search for the only family member who ever mattered to him. Mulder had no one else. His mother was dead, his sister had been taken. What's the point?

But Scully, on the other hand, she had her mother still. And her brothers Bill and Charlie, even if Bill was a royal asshole. Her father and Missy died on his watch, and nearly Scully too... Scully needed stability.

Some time ago, he told Scully she was his anchor. And it's the god damned truth. But it didn't cut both ways, as much as he loved her. And god, did he ever love that woman, with every fiber of his being. Maybe that's why he told her to leave. He knew she'd never want him, he knew he was not good enough for her, and that she's eventually resent him enough to leave.

Mulder's cell phone stirred from from his reverie. Searching around for it, he grabbed it and unlocked it, the brightness of the screen startling his pupils, making him squint and clutch his pounding head. Fourteen text messages. Six missed calls. None from Scully, so what was the point?

Frustrated, he tossed the phone onto his couch and began to mull over yesterday.

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THE PREVIOUS DAY

It was about 10:45 in the morning and Mulder had finally accepted that she wasn't coming in. He remembered staring at the hook on the door to their basement office, with her spring trench neatly hanging on the hook, and his jacket thrown haphazardly over top of it. It was symbolic of their relationship, Mulder had thought. She was perfect and he wasn't.

Skinner had chosen that moment to come into the office, without knocking. He had the look on his face that Mulder was all too familiar with. The one that said, "you've fucked up now, Agent Mulder".

"Sir, I-" Mulder began.

"Save it, Mulder." Skinner said coldly. "I'd been sitting on this one for awhile, trying to figure out if she was going to change her mind, but I guess she's not."

"Sitting on what, sir?"

"Agent Scully turned in her resignation letter last week," the A.D. said. "I thought she would retract it. But it seems she is not only leaving the FBI, but she's leaving Washington too."

Mulder felt like someone had punched him directly in the gut. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream, cry, do something irrational. But he was paralyzed in his chair, he couldn't move, because guilt brought its friends regret and sorrow with it, and were now holding him hostage in his office in front of his own boss.

Mulder, unable to speak, listened grimly as Skinner continued.

"Mulder, I don't know what the fuck happened between you two, because her resignation letter was vague and had nothing to do you with you or the X-Files, which means it has everything to do with you and the X-Files, and you need to go make things right." Skinner paused, collecting his thoughts. "You two are an unstoppable team, and we've all been through everything, and I can't imagine what would make her quit and move to New Hampshire-"

"NEW HAMPSHIRE?" Mulder bellowed.

"Yes, she took a job teaching the forensic pathology fellowship at Dartmouth's medical school."

Mulder couldn't fucking believe it. She left. She actually left. He finally was a big enough asshole that she packed her bags and her life, and she fucking left him.

"Agent Mulder, you can consider this a direct order to go make things right with Agent Scully," Skinner said, turning to leave. "If for nothing but for the sake of both of you. You need to do this Mulder, and I'm telling you as a friend, not your boss. If you do not go find her, you will regret this for the rest of your life."

With that, A.D. Skinner left the basement office, closing the door quietly behind him.

Mulder stood up wearily, feeling like he was going to be sick, his entire life scattered in a million little pieces. He walked over to Scully's desk, and began to go through her drawers, thinking if she'd left her trench on the hook that maybe she'd left other stuff too and that must mean she isn't really gone.

Inspecting her drawers, he found all her stuff, pristine, just as she'd left it. Office supplies, case files they had been working on, complete with her thoughts on sticky notes on the folders, in her familiar handwriting, that tore at Mulder's soul.

He noticed the only thing that was missing was the framed picture that sat on her desk, it was an awkward photo of she and Mulder from an FBI Christmas party two years ago. It was a harrowing time for both, Scully was still very thin from the cancer, and Mulder looked like hell after wandering all over the world for a cure for Scully's cancer. Scully had insisted on keeping the photo because it was one of the very few things that survived the office fire.

"Why would Scully take that with her?" Mulder wondered aloud.

He noticed in place of a frame was an envelope. It blended in with her desk calendar and he'd almost missed it. He picked it up and inspected it... it wasn't addressed to anyone, it just sat there, sealed.

Suddenly, the room felt like a coffin, small, like it was going to swallow him whole.

"Fuck it, I have to get out of here," Mulder mumbled, stashing the envelope into his pocket, and ran out of the office.

From there, Mulder found the bar closest to his apartment, and decided to have scotch... for lunch and dinner... and dessert too. Langly had come down eventually, when Mulder was in pretty bad shape, and took him home.

* * *

Mulder shook his head at the thought of yesterday. He thought for awhile yesterday that maybe this was the for the best, that this is exactly what Scully needed. A stable job, and a job where she could show the world how wicked smart she was. What a better place than an ivy-league medical school?

A slight stabbing sensation interrupted Mulder's thoughts.

"What the hell?" Mulder thought.

He patted his thigh to find the source of the stabbing, and heard the crunch of paper. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out the white envelope, now slightly crumpled, that sat on Scully's desk yesterday, that he'd completely forgotten about.

Mulder stared at the envelope a good five minutes. He held it to his nose, deeply inhaling, trying to grasp at a ghost of his partner and best friend.

Finally, he decided to open it. He jabbed his finger into the crease, and nearly ripped the envelope in two. He pulled out thick folded paper, probably three or four pages. Opening the papers with shaking hands, he gasped as he realized what it was.

A letter. And it began, _Dear Mulder._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**If I don't say this now, I will surely break**

**As I'm leaving the one I wanna take**

**Forgive the urgency, but hurry up and wait**

**My heart has started to separate**

"**Look After You", The Fray**

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Mulder stood up, feeling dizzy, a combination of fear and a pounding hangover. He couldn't read it. There's no way in hell. He was terrified of what she had to say. What if she hated him? What if she was going to hurt herself?

His mind raced into a million directions. He felt his heart pounding all the way in his throat. The air was thick, he couldn't breathe. And all he could think of was Skinner's last words to him.

"If you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Leaning against the wall in his living room, he reluctantly began to read.

* * *

_Dear Mulder,_

_I remember the first day I met you, like it happened yesterday. I'd woken up extra early to get ready, to put on my best suit, and look perfect. I felt hugely under qualified to work with someone like you. I'd heard so much about you, and you know me, I'm not one to buy into office gossip. I heard about you before the X-Files, when you worked in Violent Crimes. I heard about your mind, I heard about your work ethic, and I was so excited to meet you, even if everyone else thought you were the lunatic basement-dweller._

_You know, my father resented me for joining the FBI. He had never been prouder of me than the day I got my white coat and graduated medical school. It was everything he'd wanted for me, and I was ready to please. But I knew in my heart I was not happy, and when I got recruited to the academy, I became uncertain with that decision too. I felt like a huge disappointment to my family. _

_I thought working with you would be my redemption. And it was, well, I thought so anyway, perhaps you feel differently. I won't say it's been easy. In fact, it's been anything but easy. We have had difficult cases. We've risked our lives. I was taken. The implant, the cancer. There have been deaths. I will never be able to have children. Did I ever resent you for it, or think that you were the cause? No._

_Yes, the X-Files is your baby, and Samantha is YOUR sister. I get it, Mulder, I really do. But through the years, I have been so very loyal to you. I've risked my life and my career for you Mulder, and often times my own sanity. And I've never asked for anything in return. I've never had to. You're my very best friend in the whole world Mulder, and my love and loyalty to you knows no ends. And, up until last week, I thought you felt that way too, about me._

_What happened to the "one team, one fight" mantra we had? When did we stop talking? When did you start resenting me? I feel so foolish. Like the girl on the playground who just got her heart broken. I'd never seen anger like that come from you. I don't know if it was the case or something else, but I began to realize maybe it was me. Maybe I really did hold you back. I thought that was really the point of our dynamic. You open my generally closed and pragmatic mind to things I couldn't even imagine, and I keep you grounded when you strayed too far. That's how we operated. I'm not sure where or when the line was crossed and it became angry and resentful. And what's worse is, you didn't even feel like you could talk to me about it. Instead, you let it built up to the boiling point, and now we are to the point of no return._

_I've never been hurt so badly in all my life, Mulder. I guess I should thank you for your honesty. I know I'm closed off emotionally, I know I'm sometimes hard to work with. I'm so embarrassed, I really did not know what else to do, so I am doing what you asked of me. I'm leaving._

_I want to apologize for leaving you and not saying goodbye, but I won't, because you asked me to leave. And "asked" is really not the word that describes it, but I will, for the sake of closure, let bygones be bygones._

_I don't want you to worry about me. I can't tell you that I am okay right now, but I know will be. And I can't tell you I'm going to be happy here, but I will adjust, and I will move on, with my head held high. I feel like I have disappeared these past seven years, and maybe this change of pace will help me find myself. And once this is all behind me, I will keep only fond memories of you and of our life and work at the X-Files. I want you to know that I don't hate you, I'm not angry, I'm just sorry that I wasn't good enough, and I am saddened that our partnership had a shelf life, despite my best efforts._

_Please let the guys know I will always think of them, and please try not to piss Skinner off to terribly, there's no one to be your handler now, you're on your own. And I hope that you find what you are looking for, professionally and personally. Maybe your next partner will do whatever it is I was unable to do in our work._

_I wish you only the best Mulder. Please take care_

_-D.S._

_

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_

Mulder slid down the side of the wall until he reached the ground. Slumping over, he let his regret and sorrow take over, as he began to sob hard, heaving, like someone had died.

Something did die. Whatever it was between the two of them, as great and amazing as he thought it was, it died. It's dead. And Scully leaving was the nail in the coffin.

Was it too late? What if he went after her and she turned him away? What if she found someone else out there? Scully had just moved out there, but at this point in Mulder's life, he knew anything was possible. Scully was his constant. Why was he such an asshole?

Mulder knew deep down he'd been in love with her for many years. He wasn't sure when it began. Maybe one day when he realized he measured time in his life as "before Scully" and "after Scully". Which was a huge change from how he used to measure time... "before Sam" and "after Sam".

A part of Mulder felt resentful. Perhaps that part of Mulder lashed out at Scully. He was accepting that his life revolved around Scully and not his search for Sam. Mulder was not one to believe in God, that was more Scully's department, but perhaps he had to come to an acceptance that maybe Sam somehow cosmically put Scully in his life to replace her?

He knew she didn't love him back as more than best friends. If she did, she would have said something, she certainly wouldn't have left. But he didn't care. He just wanted her back, before things got messy and complicated. He could compartmentalize the romantic feelings, really. He didn't care if he slept with another woman ever again. He just needed to see Dana Scully.

But first, he had some work to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Thank you guys so much for the subscribes, kind notes, and reviews! Things got crazy over the holiday, but I've not forgotten. :) Continuing on...

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Chapter 4

**Wait right here **

**Was all she said to me **

**And so right here I stay **

**Time has reached our home **

**And I've been left alone **

**It's carried her away **

**And everyone keeps saying **

**Nothing helps but time **

**Time is all I own **

**The time won't stop replaying over in my mind **

**I watch the hours slow down **

**So I crawl underneath my blanket **

**Where I can hide away **

**I know I can't take it **

**'Cause I see now **

**It's just one of those days**

**- "One of Those Days" - Joshua Radin**

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**

"Last one..." Scully huffed, pushing the last box in through the front door of her new apartment. She turned back around, pausing to look out at her new neighborhood and at the U-Haul driving away, before softly closing the door, sighing deeply.

Moving had been a real bitch. It's amazing the things you accumulate when you've lived somewhere for almost a decade.

Scully had been in Hanover for several days now, but living like a nomad, out of a bag, waiting to be able to move into the place Meredith had secured for her.

Fortunately, the past few days had been a whirlwind of things to do. Autopilot was something Scully knew like the back of her hand. If autopilot was the way things had to be for now, so be it. Dartmouth had a beautiful campus, bustling with students who seemed very serious as opposed to when she went to Maryland. The town itself was charming and quiet, typical college town with a quaint New England feel. She'd found a nice quiet place to sit on campus to think and people watch.

It wasn't the tidal basin, but it would make do for now.

That's what she needed, a routine. She needed method to the madness. Something methodical and organized to fill her days with so that she would not fill her time thinking about how she just left her entire life, career, and the man she loved. Scully desperately needed to compartmentalize that... and by compartmentalize, she meant stash it away in a safe and throw it to the deepest, darkest, corner of her mind. Perhaps forever.

Rotating her neck, she heard an audible pop. She was sore and would definitely be feeling it in the morning. Scully wanted some Advil and a glass of water, but of course her kitchen and bathroom boxes sat in her living room, glaring at her with such conviction.

The movers at least put all her furniture where she wanted it. She'd nearly bought all new furniture. The old ones held way too many memories, so many personal memories that were, at this point in her life, currently closed for discussion.

Her stomach growled in distress, as if on cue, interrupting her thoughts. She hadn't eaten since the muffin she'd been too nervous to finish earlier in the morning. Today she'd met many of the faculty members, her new colleagues, in the pathology department. She was so nervous.

Padding into the kitchen where she'd left her purse, she searched for the flyer that had been left on her door when she'd arrived, by a local pizza place called Fat Sal's, boasting something about New York style pizza. Scully didn't care what they had, as long as they delivered.

Successful in her search, she dialed the number and placed her order, getting her total, then hanging up. Opening her wallet, she pulled out a twenty to set out for the pizza, and spilled several other things out onto the floor in the process.

Swearing at her clumsiness, she stooped down to pick the fallen credit cards and IDs, she stopped for a moment, glancing at her new university faculty ID she'd gotten today. _Dr. Dana K. Scully, Department of Pathology_, it read. Examining her photo, an inexplicable sadness washed over her. She barely recognized herself in the photo that hadn't even been taken eight hours ago. Her normally pristinely coiffed copper bob hung flat on her head. Her eyes, usually piercing blue, dominating, seemed dull and lifeless. They lacked passion and purpose.

_Sad eyes_, she thought.

Did it really take under seven days to completely take the wind out of her sails? The thought irritated Scully. She'd placed so much emotion into her work, hell, into *Mulder*, and now the rug had been completely pulled from her.

The future felt so dark, like she didn't even care now.

Scully felt the tightness in her chest, constricting all the way up to her throat. Her heart slammed in her chest, as she began to panic. Had she made a mistake? Was this the wrong thing to do? Mulder told her to leave, and she did. She waited for days, and no phone call, which reinforced her decision to go. Her heart hurt. She couldn't stay, but she couldn't go without work. Scully couldn't bear to stay in the FBI and take a lateral transfer to the academy or somewhere else. She couldn't handle the idea of a new partner, she couldn't roam the city streets of DC knowing Mulder was out there too.

It became too much to bear, and she indulged in the darkness she so rarely allowed herself to entertain. That was Mulder's department, not hers. Scully's role was damage control - to pick up the pieces when he fell apart.

Now here she is, alone in her apartment in fucking New Hampshire, falling apart this time, and no one to pick up the pieces.

A hot tear rolled down her cheek, then another, and another, until the sobs began to rack her body. Curling into a ball on the carpet, she allowed herself to cry, like a child. She inhaled the smell of brand new carpet, and the unfamiliarity of it all closed in on her, as her sobs became hysterical, gasping for breath.

Scully allowed herself this mourning for a few moments more, then it was time to pull it together before the pizza got there.

She strode into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Looking up at herself in the mirror, she found a very frail woman, with pink, puffy eyes staring back at her.

She'd officially become the worst version of herself.

Scully so desperately wanted to reach out, to call someone familiar. Her mother wasn't the answer, the Scully matriarch would immediately know something was wrong. She couldn't call the Gunmen, one of them would surely tell Mulder. Meredith was en route to Seattle right now on a neuro consult for a mutual friend... she had no one, nothing, nada.

Things would eventually not feel so devastating. It was going to be very hard work, but Scully had been hiding feeling for Mulder for years, throwing herself into her work instead. She could do that here at Dartmouth... throw herself completely into teaching and research.

Things would eventually get better, but she was afraid they would get worse before they got better.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt from laying on the floor, she trudged back into the living room. Whether she liked it or not, she was here to stay, and she needed to get organized.

Grief or no grief, old habits die hard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: I apologize for the lack of updates guys! My life got crazy busy for a few weeks, but we are back on track with the story. Thanks for the reviews and favorites, I appreciate it!**

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How long have I been in this storm  
So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form  
Water's getting harder to tread  
With these waves crashing over my head

If I could just see you  
Everything will be alright  
If I'd see you  
The storminess will turn to light

-"Storm", Lifehouse

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**Chapter 5**

BUZZ!

Mulder impatiently stabbed his finger at the buzzer outside the Gunmen's building. He shoved his hands inside the pouch of his hoodie, his breath coming out in visible puffs. Why the fuck didn't he wear his coat?

It was mid-December, according to the calendar. Mulder didn't know one way or the other. The only thing he knew was that Scully had been gone for several weeks now. After he'd read her letter he wanted to go after her in New Hampshire. But then Skinner dropped a monster caseload on him, taking him everywhere from Alabama to Oregon. Working the cases alone was a harsh reality Mulder was not quite prepared for mentally.

He'd returned to Washington defeated, not feeling like himself. Skinner suggested a partner for him, but Mulder angrily refused. He was not ready to accept that Scully was gone in that way.

Mulder knew the lull in cases now meant he needed to go find Scully, even if she didn't come back with him. He had to know she was all right. He had to have closure, in the very least.

"What's the password?" Frohike's voice came through the speaker right by his face, jarring him from his reverie.

"Dude, just let me in," Mulder retorted. Some days he just didn't have time for their antics.

The door buzzed and clicked loudly, signaling to Mulder to pull the door open. Entering the building, he made his way to their place. He knocked loudly, and paused, waiting for the various locks on the door to be unlocked.

"Those guys are so paranoid," Mulder huffed.

Byers opened the door and greeted Mulder.

"Hey Mulder, long time no see!"

It had been awhile. The last time Mulder had seen the Gunmen was after he'd learned Scully had left, and he'd gone to the bar and made an ass out of himself.

He ran his hand over his hair, looking down. "I know, I'm sorry. Skinner dropped an atomic bomb of cases on me after Scully left and I'm just now with my head above water."

"How are you doing with all that?" asked Langly, who'd entered the foyer. "With the Scully thing, I mean."

Mulder sighed deeply and looked at both of them.

Byers put his hand on Mulder's shoulder sympathetically. "We've been worried, Mulder."

"Yeah, especially since the last time we saw you, you were in a… not so good state…" Langly chimed in.

"I know guys," Mulder began, apologetically. "I guess that's why I'm here. I don't know what to do. I need to find her. Even Skinner told me I had to find her and talk to her. I'm just… not good."

"Well, let's first figure out where she's at, and then we'll go from there."

They all headed into the main room where all the computer equipment was. Sitting at the desk was none other than Frohike. He had headphones on and was engrossed in a game, which Mulder could only imagine to be Dungeons and Dragons or something similar.

Mulder chuckled to himself. These guys were his very best friends, but sometimes they could be such nerds.

Langly pulled off one side of Frohike's headphones. "Hey asshole, quit gaming, we have company!"

Frohike spun around to see Mulder with Byers and Langly and got up immediately.

"Hey Mulder, how ya doin'?"

Before Mulder could answer, Byers chimed in for him. "We're going to find Scully for him, so we need the computer and all hands on deck."

"Anything for the delicious Dana Scully," Frohike purred.

"Cut it out man, I don't even know where she is!" Mulder retorted, annoyed.

"Sorry Mulder, just trying to lighten up the mood," Frohike said. "I know how much she means to you. We'll find her no problem."

The four men gathered around the high-tech computer setup the Gunmen had. These guys were well beyond the run-of-the-mill hackers. Mulder remembered at some point Langly talking about some Alienware laptop costing nearly ten grand. These guys could find a needle in a haystack with their abilities and connections – and often have for both Mulder and Scully, on a moment's notice.

"Let me just hack into Dartmouth's system. I should be able to tell you where her office is and when she teaches." Frohike said, opening a program, and typing in some sort of code.

After several moments, all of Scully's information, along with her university identification picture.

Mulder gasped. There she was. It was like she was a total stranger. Her picture looked so very sad. It broke Mulder's heart. This entire debacle was his fault.

"Looks like her office is at the medical center. Borwell hall, fourth floor, room four-oh-five," said Byers, sensing Mulder's sadness, making sure he stayed on task. "She teaches Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays… looks like from eight-thirty to eleven in Borwell. Fridays she's in the lab with the cadavers. So your best bet is to catch her on Mondays or Wednesdays."

This was all so surreal to Mulder. He didn't know a Scully that wasn't Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully. The one who liked to lunch at the tidal basin sometimes and who knew how to outshoot any man in the bureau. He didn't know Doctor… Professor Dana Scully. It seemed so normal. So unnaturally normal. So heartbreakingly unfamiliar.

The reality slapped Mulder in the face; it was like someone threw a bucket of cold water in his face.

She moved on.

"Mulder? What's wrong?"

Mulder's voice cracked when he tried to speak.

"I.. Can't. She... She is gone."

"Mulder," said Byers, attempting to be the voice of reason. "She left because you said so. Re-read that letter she left you. She is hurting just like you are, and don't think that she will forget the last seven years in a few weeks in a new place, even if she wants to."

Mulder attempted to get his voice under control or else he would begin to sob, and he just couldn't do this anymore.

"Is it a mistake to go? What should I do?" Mulder asked desperately. "I've already messed all this up, I don't even know what to do. God, I need her. I miss her. God, I love her."

His admission was the beginning of the end of Mulder's composure, as he slumped back in the seat he was sitting in, his face twisted in a grimace trying to hold back the tears, silently pleading for them to just go the fuck away.

No such luck though, one tear escaped down his cheek, as the ID picture of Dr. Dana Scully, forensic pathology professor at Dartmouth stared at him. How did things get this bad?

The guys let Mulder have a few moments to struggle with his poise, and then Langly felt the need to not let Mulder out of this.

"Okay Mulder, here's the plan. You're going to go there. You're going to go tonight. We will book your ticket now. You're going to get a hotel, you're going to go see her during her office hours after class, and then you're going to talk to her, in a neutral area. And you're not going to chicken out."

Mulder exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Thanks guys. I appreciate all of this."

Frohike wrote down all the pertinent information. Scully's home address, work information and schedule. The guys put him up in a pretty nice hotel, which made Mulder scratch his head a bit, but whatever.

"Okay Mulder, get out of here. Your flight leaves in five hours," said Langly.

"Yeah, and when you've kissed and made up with Scully, give us a call and let us know how it's going," Byers said, with a wink.

Mulder headed out then, saying goodbye to the guys. He had so much do to before he headed to Dulles.


	6. Chapter 6

Oh no, I see,  
A spider web is tangled up with me,  
And I lost my head,  
The thought of all the stupid things I'd said,  
Oh no, what's this?  
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,  
So I turned to run,  
The thought of all the stupid things I've done.

-"Trouble", Coldplay

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Mulder sped home and began to pack for New Hampshire. He had no idea how long he would be there, or even when his return flight was. He had no idea what the weather was going to be like, and he didn't care. If all went perfectly, he wouldn't have to be outside facing the elements.

He decided that if he was going to go for the gusto, and make the trek all the way up there to go after her, he wasn't going to waste his or Scully's time. He was going to tell her everything, how he was sorry for their fight, and he was going to tell her how he felt. This was absolutely his only chance to speak to her.

If Mulder had learned anything in his life, especially these past seven years with Scully, you don't get unlimited chance to have the things that you want. That's been a hard lesson to learn, and this trip to New Hampshire, he was going to make the most out of the trip.

He needed to make a few phone calls before he left though. The first number he dialed was Assistant Director Skinner's number.

"Skinner," the bald AD answered curtly.

"Hey sir, Agent Mulder here," Mulder said tentatively.

"What can I do for you, Agent Mulder?"

"I just wanted to request a few personal days off, I know it's last minute but-"

Skinner cut Mulder off. "What's the nature of this leave?"

Walter Skinner was nobody's fool, and always smelled the rat when there was one. Mulder hasn't taken a personal day in nearly a decade.

"I'm taking your advice, sir." Mulder simply stated.

"What advice is that, Mulder?"

"I'm going to go find Scully."

Skinner struggled not to smile. "Very well then, Agent Mulder, take whatever time you need."

Mulder punched the 'end' button on his cell phone and tossed it on to his bed. He really wanted to call Maggie Scully. He wasn't sure how much Scully had told her mother about why she was moving or what happened between she and Mulder, but he felt this inexplicable urge to talk to her about everything. He had no time to go see her, since he needed to leave for the airport in an hour, but he could certainly call.

Nervously, he picked up the phone and dialed her number, his heart slamming in his chest each time the phone rang. Finally, on the fifth ring, she picked up.

"Hello?" answered Maggie.

"Missus Scully, hey, hi, it's Fox Mulder," Mulder said awkwardly, wanting to immediately hang up at his awkwardness.

"Oh, hello, Fox, good to hear from you!" she said genuinely. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mulder paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Well, I'm not sure really where to begin, really."

"The beginning always works best, I find," she chuckled.

"Well you see, that's what's complicated. I'm not sure how much Dana told you about why she left…"

"I figured you'd be calling someday to talk about this," she said.

"Missus Scully-"

"Please, Maggie," she interrupted.

"Maggie, I just don't know what she told you, and I haven't spoken to her or seen her, I don't know if she's okay, and this whole thing was a huge, horrible thing that is completely my fault. I'm flying up there to try to talk to her in an hour and I don't know if I am doing the right thing. I'm scared," Mulder admitted.

"Slow down, Fox," Maggie said gently. "Here's what I know from Dana. I knew vaguely that something happened, but I wasn't sure to what capacity, and I knew she was going. She sounds so sad when I talk to her and I assume she did not want to leave in the first place. She insisted she was making a better career choice. It seemed so sudden, and I knew how close you two were, and she wouldn't even let me say your name."

This broke Mulder's heart, more than words could say.

"I'm so sorry Maggie, we got in a pretty bad fight at work and it spun out of control. I think there's an underlying reason on my part, but it's become such a mess, that I don't know how to fix it, and I'm trying as best as I can."

Mulder paused, wondering if he should even tell her. He remembered seeing Scully's sad face on the screen at the Gunmen's and decided that this was all so very important. He exhaled and pressed on.

"Maggie, you have to know, that I have feelings for your daughter… I love her, and all of this is because I just couldn't tell her. Despite my best efforts, she's gone, and I am so sorry, I am trying to fix it."

Maggie Scully smiled on her end of the line. "Fox I've known how you and Dana feel about each other for years now. Sometimes I felt like the whole world knew except for the two of you. Chasing each other to the ends of the Earth… how could we all not know Fox? "

God, had he been so transparent?

Mrs. Scully continued. "Go up there Fox, go up there and tell her how you feel. Dana isn't the easiest woman to get to open up, but tell her, I know she loves you too Fox. Go up there, and bring her back here. It's cold up there and I miss her."

"Okay Maggie, I've got to head out now to catch this flight, but I will stay in contact with you. Thank you so much, you have no idea how much your words mean to me."

"Safe travels, Fox. Please call if you need anything."

Mulder put his cell phone back in his pocket, and sat down with wonder. Mrs. Scully thinks that Scully loves him back? How? When? What?

"There's no way," Mulder said aloud, to no one in particular. "There's no fucking way."

Obviously Mrs. Scully had been mistaken. If Scully loved him, she wouldn't have left in the first place. Or maybe he just finally pushed her over the edge. He didn't know. This is exactly why he was going to New Hampshire. For answers, and closure, if need be.

Mulder picked up his bags and headed out the door. He was so scared and so ready to see Scully. He was becoming desperate. He'd never gone this long without seeing her. He needed her, and God it would kill him if she didn't come back.

But he had to know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: I'm cranking it out, cos I'm just on a roll with the story.. what a cruel place to end, but I promise more very soon. :D**

**

* * *

**Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you  
Tell you I need you  
Tell you I've set you apart

-"The Scientist", Coldplay

* * *

**Chapter 7**

It was Monday morning. Scully looked at herself in the mirror of her office. Her hair was good. She'd donned a suit with a pencil skirt, with her white doctor's coat over top. She wore black pumps to match the suit. She felt powerful when she looked at herself. She was getting ready to teach her Monday class.

Over the past few weeks, she'd been able to push Mulder and her life in DC in to a nice little box and stashed it away in the back of her mind. She adopted this no-nonsense, "I don't give a fuck", Madame Freezer Burn persona. She wanted to be respected in her job. She wanted to be a force to be reckoned with.

Her first weeks of teaching went without incident. She felt calm, knowledgeable, and confident. Her lectures were well prepared and because of her various fellowships and programs she'd attended in her life mixed with her professional experience, she had a lot of offer students. Her lectures were well received by the students. They came to her office hours to discuss their futures, their research interests, or sometimes to ask about life at the FBI.

She casually avoided all talk of the FBI, because that would stir the components of her life she boxed up and compartmentalized. She knew that her composure was living on borrowed time. The truth was, she was on the verge of a fucking emotional breakdown.

She felt no attachments to anyone and anything at work; she kept everyone at a distance. She had not dealt with the fact that she just picked up and moved her entire life without looking back – without allowing herself to look back. She enjoyed what she did, but she came home to nothing. Scully needed to grieve and she had not allowed herself since that first night in her apartment.

Avoiding the subject had been tricky at first, but now she'd had it all down into a science. The worst times were when Meredith tried to fix her up with someone to get her out of the house. Scully had no desire to go out on a date with anyone, regardless. She knew her measuring stick was Mulder; she was not ready to let Mulder go yet, because that entailed dealing with her emotions and everything that happened. The idea made her so out of control that she just corked that thought, and it just simmered below the surface.

She felt like she could deal with things best this way. No one from her past was up here, and it wasn't like she was about to bump into Mulder accidentally and have everything come spilling out, so no harm, no foul for the time being. Maybe she'd take some vacation time to deal with it. Until then, Madame Freezer Burn must press on.

Scully exited her office, closing the door behind her, as it made an audible click. She strode down the hall confidently to her lecture hall and over to the podium and media center to load her Power Point slides for the lecture.

It was a large lecture hall; it could easily fit about two hundred students. She had about a hundred and ten students in this particular class because it was an intro course to forensic pathology. It was the course to "weed out" those who couldn't cut the mustard of autopsies, forensic science, and general gloom-and-doom.

Students slowly began filing into the lecture hall. Scully exhaled slowly and began to go over her lecture notes in her head.

(Meanwhile)

Mulder entered Borwell hall, after getting turned around in the empire that was Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center. Typical teaching hospital, it turned out to be a total maze. Mulder surveyed the crowd and accepted that regardless, he was not going to assimilate well.

Mulder had gotten into New Hampshire the previous night. He'd checked into his hotel then went on a cruise by where Scully lived. He wanted to go knock, and he almost did, but something Langly had said stopped him, about talking to Scully on neutral ground. If she didn't want to talk to him at home, she could slam the door and that would be that. At the medical school he might have a better chance, because Scully would want to save face and not act emotional in front of others.

So Mulder had decided to get up and act like he was one of Scully's students. He'd go in there at 8:30 and sit there through her lecture, and then he'd follow her to her office and talk to her then. It should be lunchtime by then and she didn't teach the rest of the day. It would be perfect, if only all uncontrollable factors went properly.

He'd finally found Borwell and made it to the fourth floor. He passed Scully's office that was thankfully closed, and he bypassed the classroom she was teaching in. He'd decided if it were a small classroom then he'd abort mission because he couldn't hide in plain sight that easily. Thankfully, it was a very large lecture hall with at least seventy-five students already sitting down.

Mulder checked his watch. Still ten minutes to spare. He wondered if it were Ivy League kids or just the med school crowd in general that yielded such punctuality.

Either way, Mulder pulled on his ball hat low over his eyes and took a seat towards the back of the lecture hall. He looked up and nearly stroked out. A lump immediately formed in his throat, and his heart began to race. He clutched the desk and tried to get a grip.

There she was. Down in the front, was his tiny, beautiful, capable partner who he hadn't seen or spoken to in nearly two months. She was dressed to perfection, donning a white doctor's coat. Her copper bob hung perfectly and her eyes were steel blue, looking like she would cut the first person that crossed her path.

Pacing, checking her watch, then finally hearing the bell, Scully grabbed a remote from the media center, and clicked the lights to low, as a large screen pulled down automatically from the ceiling and the projector flipped on. She took her place at the podium.

"Good morning, I hope you all had a great weekend," she began. "Just a few admin notes while the projector starts up… Just a reminder, as noted in your syllabus, Wednesday I will not be here, you will be having a guest speaker, a forensic anthropologist from the University of Tennessee. She is a colleague of mine, and she will be expanding upon today's taphonomy lecture. Don't use this as a time to ditch, we have an exam next week and things covered in her lecture will be on the exam."

Mulder sat and listened as she droned on about exam review, about fellowship opportunities, before she began her lecture on taphonomy, which included much about decomposing bodies and rigor mortis. Apparently high heat at time of death made the skin soft and delayed rigor mortis, affecting the estimation of time of death. Mulder decided he would skip lunch today.

As Scully droned on, Mulder began to squirm. He was so nervous to talk to her; he was so scared of what was going to happen. The thing that bothered Mulder the most is that if the outcome of this trip was bad, and she did not want to see him again, then he would be forced to move on and close this chapter of his life. And that was something he simply was not ready for.

Mulder looked up to see a powerpoint slide of a decomposing body and shuddered. He then looked at Scully who was speaking cooly and confidently, while surveying the lecture hall.

"Rigor mortis is the best method we have to estimating time of death, however there are instances where it isn't the best method, especially in instances of human remains found. As your guest speaker Wednesday will discuss, there are other methods used to determine age, sex, and how long since death. A very interesting method used is dental eruption, of the first molar, especially in sub-adult skeletons-"

Scully stopped speaking, her words caught in her throat. Up in the back of the lecture hall was a student… he was slumped low in his seat, wearing a New York Knicks hat, who was a dead ringer for Mulder.

No. It couldn't be.

He locked eyes with Scully, and she immediately knew it was Mulder. Her knees went weak, and she grabbed the podium to maintain her stance. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

Holy fuck. She had to say something, everyone was staring at her.

"Actually," she began, her voice cracking, despite her best efforts. "This is a good place to call it quits, I don't want to spoil what Dr. Guatelli has to tell you Wednesday. Enjoy, and I will see you all on Friday in lab."

SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! Scully had spotted him, they locked eyes and he was paralyzed in absolute fear. She stopped her lecture and just stared. Several moments passed before she began speaking again. She cut the students out early, and began to quickly exit the classroom before yelling over her shoulder that her office hours today were cancelled.

Fuck, he had to run after her before she shut her office door. He wouldn't make a scene at her job. This whole thing has fucking backfired. God damnit!

Striding down the hall, he saw Scully caught in a likely unwanted position with what looked like a fellow faculty member. He buzzed by her and went into her office, and closed the door. Her purse was in here, with her coat and keys, so she had no choice but to come in here.

So Mulder sat and he waited.


	8. Chapter 8

I was just guessing  
At numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science  
Science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Oh tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start

- "The Scientist", Coldplay

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Mulder's eyes scanned the office of the Dr. Dana K. Scully that he no longer knew. Her office was pristine and very Scully-like, as he'd expected. On the walls in beautiful mahogany frames hung her badges of honor – her diplomas and awards she'd received during her career.

She had a bookshelf full of pathology and forensics textbooks. The office had a very large L-shaped desk with a computer and it was covered in medical journals and files covered with her efficient sticky-notes. He'd forgotten Dartmouth was a research institution, so the terms of her contract probably had her do a certain amount of teaching to a certain amount of research.

Looking through her things, it was like she'd come from another university or medical examiner's office. It was as if she'd somehow sanitized her past to conveniently leave out the FBI and the X-Files, and worst of all… him. That is, until Mulder noticed a framed picture sitting on her desk, hiding in the corner, partially covered by a plant. It was the picture of she and Mulder that he noticed was missing from her desk back at the Bureau.

Mulder felt incredibly confused by this picture in her office. What did it mean? And better yet, where the hell was Scully?

The thought of Scully made his stomach drop to the floor. He realized he had nothing prepared to say to her, and he wasn't entirely sure that he was even going to be able to speak when finally she came in. In seven years, he'd never been away from Scully this long. It ate away at him; it chipped away at his resolve. Being in the same room as her, seeing her, it was enough to send him over the edge. But being this close to her again, close enough to touch… he would be so close, he thought he might die from the very notion of touching her.

Jesus. Where the fuck was Scully?

* * *

About fifty feet from her office door, Scully chatted casually with Dr. Vikutas, the chair of the pathology department. He'd been pressing her to meet with the county medical examiner to get in some practical ME time, to keep her forensics skills sharpened.

At this point she didn't give a flying fuck about forensic pathology. The only thing she cared about was the fact that Fox Mulder sat in through neatly an entire class of hers, whom she'd not heard from in nearly two months, and all she could do is stand there in front of students like she'd seen the fucking ghost of Christmas Past.

And now he was in her office, waiting for her. She wanted to run. She wanted to go in there and face him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his neck, feeling his pulse. But mostly she just wanted to run. Her weeks of hard work, trying to put him away, push him to the back of her mind, was inevitably going to come undone, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Scully excused herself from the conversation and bypassed her office and went straight for the ladies' room. She stared at herself in the mirror, really in abject horror at this entire situation. Why was he here? Why now, after several weeks had elapsed?

She couldn't hang out in here forever, even if she wanted to. Her coat and car keys were both in her office. Fox Mulder happened to also be in her office. It was like a blessing and a curse all in one.

So many nights she'd lie in bed and wish none of this had ever happened and that she could see him again. And now here opportunity was knocking, but at the expense of her sanity. She looked down at her hands, which were trembling like she was in subzero temperature. She had to pull it together, and fast.

She straightened her hair, sighed deeply, and decided to trudge in like a soldier and face whatever fate held for her in her office. Scully accepted that she would likely become unhinged at the close proximity of him and that she may dissolve into a million little pieces, but she didn't care anymore. She needed resolution. _They_ needed resolution.

* * *

Mulder jumped out of his skin when he heard the door of Scully's office click and open. He was shaking with anticipation. In walked his partner, looking defeated and sad. She closed the door behind her, and then froze, facing the door.

Scully was scared if she turned around faced him, she would completely come unraveled. Fuck it, she thought to herself, turning around. She saw an equally terrified Mulder, sitting on the edge of her desk, staring wide-eyed back at her.

The moment Scully locked eyes with Mulder her heart gave the middle finger to her brain. Despite all efforts, she choked out a sob, and slowly slid down the door, down to the floor, and began to sob uncontrollably, like a child.

Mulder's heart shattered. This was his fault, and now it was his responsibility to fix this mess.

Wordlessly, he fell to the ground and crawled after Scully. The instant his hand touched hers, he lost it too. He gathered Scully's small frame into his arms, burying his face into her hair, as he began to sob with her.

Several minutes passed like this, until Mulder became desperate to break the silence.

"Scully," he said quietly.

Scully was unable to process anything that was happening at this moment. How was it that she was sobbing in his lap when yesterday he was hundreds of miles away? He was crying too… what gives?

"Scully," Mulder said again, louder so she could hear. Placing a hand on either bicep, he pushed her away in order to meet his eyes. Her eyes shone with fresh, unshed tears, her chin began to quiver again.

"Shhh, Scully, please don't cry," he said softly again. "This is all my fault, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am, for everything."

When Scully said nothing, he continued to speak.

"I can't even remember what happened to cause our fight, Scully. I just… I don't know, I have had some things on my mind for so long, and it's my fault I didn't tell you, I should have been honest, but I'm so scared to tell you the truth, so scared it would ruin what we have. Or had, I guess. But the cruel irony is, keeping the truth from you to save us ended up driving you away."

He choked up and became desperate; the words just weren't coming out right. "God Scully, I can't exist in this world without you in my life. Please. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I can do… I will spend eternity trying to take back those words I said to you."

Scully spoke for the first time since she'd entered her office.

"You're not doing too badly of a job now," she whispered.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" Mulder asked. "I just, I need to tell you everything Scully, please."

Scully nodded, standing up and wiping her face. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt. Wordlessly, she grabbed her coat from the hook and her purse. She peered over at Mulder expectantly. He took the cue, and got up as well, brushing off his jeans and following Scully out the door.

Scully's mind was reeling, as they strode down the hall together. Was this even real life? What did Mulder have to say to her that was so fucking important?

Mulder followed Scully out of the building and to the parking garage. They made their way to Scully's familiar car, which was suddenly soothing to Mulder. Finally, something familiar about this entire fucked up situation.

Getting in the car and buckling up, Scully began the recently familiar drive to her apartment, in silence. After about ten minutes, Mulder finally broke the silence again this time.

"Are you happy here, Scully?" Mulder asked finally, immediately regretting it.

"Don't," Scully interrupted harshly. "Just don't, Mulder. You don't get to talk to me about anything here. You don't get to come in here, out of nowhere like you're some knight in shining armor. You don't get to be the hero of this story. You don't know the hell you've put me through these past two months. You don't know because you haven't even bothered to pick up the phone and find out. You don't get to be that guy Mulder, not now, not yet."

She angrily flicked on the blinker and stopped at a red light. She let her breath out slowly. God he was such an asshole sometimes. A tear slid down her cheek, and she indignantly swiped at it, pissed off that Mulder is witnessing this meltdown she was in the process of having.

Several more minutes continued in silence, and finally Scully pulled into her complex and parked in her spot. She gently put the car in park and looked at Mulder. They were going to go in to her apartment, and regardless, they were going to come out with answers and resolution, happy or sad. Scully decided since this was all about to go to pot anyways, it was time to be complete honest. Sometimes when you have nothing to lose, you just act crazy.

Time to bite the bullet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: wanted to go for the gusto, I think I've posted more today than I have this whole time. We're several chapters from being over, but this is a nice place to leave off for the time being, don't you think? ;) Be warned, kiddies, this chapter contains smutty bliss.  
**

**

* * *

**

Just a drop in the ocean,  
A change in the weather,  
I was praying that you and me might end up together.  
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,  
But I'm holding you closer than most,  
'Cause you are my heaven.

- "Drop In The Ocean", Ron Pope

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Scully slid the key into the lock and turned it, unlocking the door. She could feel Mulder behind her, his anxiety radiated off his body like heat. Shuddering ad his proximity, she entered her apartment, tossing her keys haphazardly on the table in the foyer and shrugging her coat off.

"Throw your stuff, wherever, Mulder," she said coolly, not attempting to turn around and look at him in the face. "I'm going to get something to drink, can I get you anything?"

"No thanks, Scully, I'm fine," he answered.

"Isn't that my line?" she volleyed back at him, attempting a stab at humor very inappropriately but not even beginning to care.

Mulder laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I suppose so, Scully."

While he waited on Scully to finish up in the kitchen, he surveyed her new place. All the furniture was the same, but when it was put into a different apartment and rearranged differently, and thrown into new circumstance, it became overwhelmingly unfamiliar.

Mulder couldn't explain what it was that nearly gave him a damn panic attack about this place, about this life of Scully he didn't know, or had no part in. He supposed it was because she was so far away from him, and so close to being gone for good.

Sighing heavily, Mulder sank into her striped couch.

In the kitchen, Scully gulped water and gripped onto the kitchen counter for stability. This was a variable lane she was about to walk down. She had no map, no game plan. All she was armed with was her anger at Mulder and her overwhelming love for him. At this point, she wasn't sure which one would win.

Feeling stronger after a glass of water and some space, she entered the living room, ready for battle.

"Okay, Mulder," she began, seating herself a safe distance from him, in her armchair across from him. "Obviously there is much to be said given this whole circumstance. I will entertain what it is you have to say, since you did fly all the way up here to say it. We are what we are, what we have been for seven years now, but I have to warn you, I can honestly say I've never been this hurt by someone I trusted with my life, and never did I imagine…"

Scully paused, grasping for words.

"I don't even know what I'm trying to say really. I'm so hurt, Mulder. I'm not in a great place. I'm lost Mulder, and I'm just trying to make it through each day without falling apart entirely. So please, please tell me what you couldn't tell me two months ago. I'm waiting."

Suddenly Mulder's mouth was as dry as the Sahara. This conversation was going to make or break them.

"Okay. First I want to say how sorry I am Scully. I feel like the more I say those words the less they mean, but it's really not like that. I have a really fucked up way of doing things sometimes, which I'm sure you've realized after working with me all these years.

I guess the best place to start is the beginning. I was having a hard time with the Padilla girl case, and it wasn't the case, though it was so hard to not draw parallels to Sam. But the truth is, Scully, I realized that day that somewhere along the line I quite measuring my time and my life around 'before Sam' and 'after Sam'. It became 'before Scully' and 'after Scully'. I've told you so many times Scully, you're my best friend. I owe you everything, and you owe me nothing. This walk of life has been so fucked up and unbelievably crazy. I can't trust a soul in this world besides you. But realizing that change of importance in my life, it made me resentful, momentarily, and I just snapped, and unfortunately it was at you."

Mulder sighed, and ran his hands though his hair and finally resting his face in his palms, hiding his face from Scully. This was harder than he'd imagined. As hard as he tried, every word he said sounded cheap and stupid, and paled in comparison of how he really felt and what he actually meant.

Looking up and meeting Scully's eye, he pressed on.

"There's more, Scully," he began, trying to get his proper footing in this conversation, because he was about to go down a very slippery slope.

"Tell me, please tell me, Mulder," Scully whispered.

"I've been hiding something from you. I've been hiding it for a long time because I have been scared. So scared of losing you again… after you were taken, after nearly losing you to cancer, then going missing again and finding you in Antarctica, I couldn't bear to lose you another time. I thought I could just live with it and enjoy you just being here in front of me. Unfortunately, when you compartmentalize something, it eventually comes bubbling up, and it ended up fucking this whole thing up. I'm sorry Scully. By hiding the truth from you, I screwed this up. I screwed up big time."

Scully began to tremble in her chair. She felt nauseous. He'd been lying to her about something for years? What had he been keeping from her?

"What… what did you hide from me Mulder?" Scully whispered, her voice breaking again. Her eyes shone with tears again, threatening to fall.

"Damn it!" she swore, swiping at her face, angry at her weakness. "I didn't want to do this here. I promised I wasn't going to cry again in front of you!"

Mulder frowned, struggling. He wanted to go over there and scoop her up and soothe her, but he also didn't know if that's what she wanted, or if he even had the right anymore. Did he ever have the right?

"I'm in love with you, Scully," he blurted out.

Scully's head snapped up and looked at him, frozen like a deer in headlights.

"What…. What did you say to me?"

"I love you, and I… I've done this incredibly stupid thing, and I am so scared I've lost you forever," Mulder stammered.

Scully's mouth hung open, in a perfect "O". She was fucking shocked, so stunned she was rendered speechless, motionless for several minutes.

"Scully… please say something," said Mulder, finally. "Christ, Scully, I'm so afraid of messing this up… again. Please."

Mulder's words finally sank into Scully, and she shot out of her chair like a rocket, landing in his lap on the couch, straddling him, covering his mouth with hers; cradling his head.

He was equally shocked by her reactions and responded immediately; lips, tongue, teeth, all colliding at once. He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her in closer, directly against him, her pelvis bumping his.

She let out an audible moan and began tugging at his t-shirt. She needed to feel his skin. She needed to touch him, god she was so lonely, so desperate, so relieved, so terrified.

"Scully," Mulder gasped, feeling Scully's hands on his bare torso, feeling his resolve melting away. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

Her hands left his torso at his words, and she grabbed his face, yanking it harshly to hers. Scully's eyes were dark and pleading.

"No, just fucking touch me, Mulder," she panted, "Please just touch me, God, I need you so bad Mulder!"

Mulder tugged at her crisp white shirt, pulling it out of her skirt it was tucked into, and began quickly unbuttoning it, revealing the alabaster skin of her taut stomach and a lacy bra that revealed the swells of her breasts that he'd spent a near seven years fantasizing about.

She shrugged her shirt off, letting it fall onto the floor and began tugging at Mulder's t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Immediately she ran her hands over his arms, feeling the cut muscles, then down his chest before kissing him ferociously, with desperation.

His hands immediately went to her ass, then searched for the zipper to her skirt and unzipped it. She stood up and slipped it off, revealing stockings and a garter, which nearly made Mulder come at the sight of her. Scully climbed back on him again and began grinding her hips into his, as she alternated between kissing and sucking on his neck. He was painfully hard, and couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

"Scully," he said, his voice ragged. "Bedroom?"

"Down the hall, first door on the left," she grunted, wrapping her legs around Mulder's waist as he stood up and padded to her bedroom.

He placed her gently on her bed, then began to undo the stockings and peel them off her porcelain thighs along with the garter. The fact that she wore garters was so fucking hot, but right now they looked better on the damned floor. She sank back on to the bed, waiting for Mulder to follow. He fumbled at the button and zipper of his jeans and finally pulled them down, shaking them off one leg at a time.

Mulder looked back down at his naked partner, taking in the whole sight of her for the first time. Her copper hair was fanned out around her head, like fire, the look in her eyes was feral, out of control. A look that was unprecedented in the span of their seven years of knowing each other. Her mouth open, licking her lips, and heaving slightly. His eyes ran over the hollow of her collarbone and throat, to her perfect breasts that sat high on her chest. Her nipples, hard from a combination of arousal and the cool air in the room. Her torso was taut and led to her perfectly waxed apex.

Christ. Had she been waxing this whole fucking time he knew her? And wearing stockings? This was beyond any fantasy Mulder could have concocted, EVER.

His reverie was interrupted by Scully, who had hooked her thumbs onto his the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His painfully hard cock sprang free and she wasted no time reaching for it, stroking the length of him, as he twitched in her grasp.

That was all it fucking took and Mulder was gone, groaning so loud he hoped there were no neighbors home.

"Mulder, please, now, I can't wait," she panted.

As much as he wanted to sink completely into her, he wanted to spend time worshipping her body that he'd dreamt of every night for the past seven years.

"Scully-" he began.

Scully would have none of it, grabbing his face and pulling it down to hers, she spoke softly. "Mulder I know you want to take your time, and I do too, but next time we will take the time, but, god please Mulder, I've waited so long, I want you now."

"Baby, I know, but-" Mulder said, shuddering at his level of arousal, before he was cut off again by a desperately impatient Scully.

"NO," she demanded. "Mulder, Christ almighty, fuck me now, and fuck me hard!"

Mulder's head nearly fucking exploded at the words coming out of his generally prude partner. Never in a million years, in his wildest dreams had he expected those words to roll off her tongue.

Unable to refuse her demand, he slid his fingers down her abdomen to her apex, inserting two fingers deep inside her, finding her dripping wet, her walls slick, and ready for him.

"Christ Scully," he said in wonder.

"Mulder, god, I'm so wet for you, NOW, please," Scully was beginning to feel delirious from arousal. She was so close to him, but didn't have him inside her, she wanted it so bad, for so long, that she thought she might die from this innate need for him.

Before she could say another word, Mulder sank his entire length into her, and a scream escaped from her mouth that had been building deep within her belly. He began to slowly thrust, reveling in the feeling of her snug walls around him.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, his eyes moist, at their union.

She smiled as his sudden tenderness, and reached up and touched his face. "You're perfect, Mulder."

He began to thrust into her faster; he knew he wasn't going to last long. Mulder reached down and touched her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, and pinching her rose colored nipples, as she began to moan his name, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Mmmm, harder, Mulder, you feel so amazing," she moaned, weaving her fingers in his hair as he thrust into her relentlessly.

She sucked in a ragged breath; she knew she was close, the feeling building low in her belly, as she began to wantonly chant his name with each thrust.

"Mulder, Mulder, Mulder, god, yes, oh my god Mulder!"

"Come on Scully, come for me, I wanna see you come," he panted, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger on either hand.

The combination of sensations was enough to push Scully over the edge, and she felt her walls clamp around him, and seeing white, the brightness blinding her as she came, hard.

Mulder, not far behind her, thrust into Scully a few more times, and she grabbed his ass, pulling him deeper into her, and that was all it took for Mulder to fall over the edge.

"Scullyyyy!" he yelled, coming hard, unable to stop himself from thrusting into her until he collapsed, with his weight on top of her. He buried his face in her neck, overcome with emotion of what just happened between them.

"Mulder," she whispered in wonder.

Mulder was unable to speak. He'd wanted to take his time, he wanted to talk, she hadn't even responded to his admission. He wanted to spend hours with her, taking the time she deserved and needed. This felt amazing, god, indescribable, but he was so scared that this was it. He had no idea how she felt.

He began to cry softly into her neck, hoping she wouldn't notice.

Scully felt his tears run down her neck and she immediately felt bad. She knew how badly he wanted to talk and take his time with her, but she just had to have him now, she couldn't wait. She felt awful for this now, seeing his reaction. She should have known.

"Mulder, please don't cry," she said, softly.

Mulder made no attempt to move from her neck, so she continued.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think of how you felt, I was just so stunned when you said you loved me, and god, I've wanted you for so long now Mulder, and I've been so alone, just as long, and with everything that happened these past few months… I just reacted to that need for you, that I've needed all along."

He finally made to look at her, holding the weight of himself on his wrists, looking down at her. She smoothed her hand over his cheek, smiling lazily.

"So this was okay?"

Scully chuckled. "It was more than okay, Mulder, it was perfect."

Mulder heaved a sigh of relief. Scully grabbed him by the face and pulled it to hers. "And just so you know," she whispered. "I love you too."


	10. Chapter 10

It's in our power to face the storm with all its fury and madness  
The flash of thunder roll behind us with a longing and sadness  
The clouds will break.

Hold me, whisper gently this is what we live for, how we learn how we are  
It defines us, ever reminding us that life never is more precious than this  
Hold me, whisper gently that there's nothing to fear,  
You'll always be near, to remind me, stand behind me  
Although life can be rough we can never give up.

-"Moments Like This", Alison Krauss

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Mulder's mind was reeling at the events of today. For the first time in his entire life, he was speechless. He flew out to New Hampshire out of pure need for Scully; to see her, talk to her, make sure she was okay. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but was no game plan, no rehearsed words. There were only feelings. Terrified and frustrated during their conversation on the couch, he just blurted out the very thing he'd been struggling to keep secret for years now.

He'd watched Scully's face, as she processed what he said to her. She looked shocked, devastated. Seeing the look on her face, coupled with her lack of response, Mulder assumed he'd blown it. But then, she asked him to repeat what he'd said, incredulously, like there was no way in hell Mulder could ever love Scully.

He said it again, with more conviction, and she shot up like a missile, and in an instant was all over him, kissing, touching, tugging at his clothes with an urgency that Mulder thought only existed in his darkest dreams and secret thoughts. Initially, Mulder wanted to talk things through, hell at the time she hadn't even retuned the sentiment. But eventually it became futile, as she lie on the bed Mulder where had gently placed her, writhing from arousal and begging him to fuck her. It had been so long since he'd had contact with another person like that, certainly on that level. Combined with the pent-up emotions from everything with Scully, the sex was inevitable, and unbelievable. So rarely did Mulder feel that primal need – and get to satisfy it with exactly what he'd wanted, for so long.

And Jesus, the sex was fantastic. Mind-blowing. Anything he'd fantasized about simply paled in comparison. Her body was so beautiful, her smell, her taste... so perfect. He had no idea that his generally prude partner would be so forthcoming in bed. She was demanding, in control, which was so hot. But then there was a sweet, submissive side to her too. He wanted to explore both sides of Scully, because both equally excited him. There was so much he wanted to do, so much lost time to make up for.

The very memory of it made Mulder hard again, even though it'd only been an hour since it'd happened, since he was inside her. Unfortunately, neither of them had eaten today, so other needs had to be satisfied first. Now he sat again on her couch, running over the events of today, as Scully put on a pot of tea. It was time for them to actually talk.

Scully entered the living room with a mug of tea in each hand and a sated smile on her face.

Placing the mugs down on the coffee table, she bent over and kissed Mulder softly, before breaking away, pulling back, and smiling shyly at Mulder.

Mulder reached out and placed his hand on Scully's cheek.

"This is never going to get old," he said, smiling. "Being able to kiss you, to touch you… Never in a million years did I think I'd be able to."

"I've been here all along, Mulder. All you had to do was ask." Scully said, taking a seat cross-legged next to Mulder, turning to face him as they spoke.

"Well, easier said than done, you know?" he said. "You play your cards pretty close to your chest, and I was so fucking scared, Scully."

Scully sighed, knowing he was right. "I know Mulder. I suppose in regards with us, I thought that I was able to separate the feeling and put it away, and somehow live with it, without affecting our work and our friendship."

"I have to ask… how long have you had feelings for me?"

Scully looked down, fiddling with a stray thread on the hem of her sleeve.

Mulder, knowing this song and dance all too well with Scully, immediately touching her chin, tilting her eyes to meet his, peering into the cerulean pools that were swimming with emotion.

"Scully," he said softly. "Tell me."

She sighed, knowing it was time to pony up the truth. Hiding the truth is what led them to this entire debacle. She owed him the truth, in the very least. Wasn't the truth the whole point to their existence anyway? Years spent searching for "the truth" only to find they both hid the truth from each other.

Irony may be a bigger bitch than karma.

"I was attracted to you physically, sexually, god… nearly immediately," she said, finally.

Mulder smirked with pride at that.

Looking back down, she continued. "I'm not sure where the line crossed from sexual attraction to romantic feelings, but I remember the exact moment I realized I was in love with you…"

He covered her hand with his, squeezing gently, silently urging her to continue.

"When I was in Donnie Pfaster's closet," she admitted, looking up at him. "I was terrified. I was convinced that no one would figure out Pfaster in time and that I'd end up dead like the other women. And when I sat blindfolded and tied up in that closet, all I wanted was you. I knew then."

Mulder's heart broke. Donnie Pfaster was a trying time for Scully, even worse when the bastard got out of prison and came back after her.

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her, needing to touch her after her very rare emotional admission. Scully was good at a lot of things, but expressing matters of the heart was not one of them. Mulder understood this.

Scully eagerly returned the embrace, scooting herself forward, nearly into his lap, burying her face into his neck, and inhaling deeply. She wondered if this feeling of weakness would ever pass. They had so much lost time to make up for, so many times where she would lie in bed at night, alone, absolutely aching for Mulder to touch her. And now she is in his arms, and nothing seemed to be close enough, she couldn't get close enough. If it were physically possible, she would crawl inside of him.

"I love you Mulder," she whispered into his neck, feeling Mulder tighten his grip around her. "So much…"

They remained in a silent embrace for several minutes, before Mulder finally pulled away to look at her.

"Okay, I hate to be the party pooper here, Scully, but obviously we're both in agreement on how we feel, but where does that leave us? You're here, I'm there. What are we going to do?"

Scully felt the dread build in the pit of her stomach, knowing this topic of conversation would eventually come up. She didn't have an answer to it. She'd signed a contract at Dartmouth. Scully felt like she could honestly be happy here, if Mulder would agree to come up here, which she knew he never would. But she'd left the FBI, she'd resigned, and she didn't figure there was any way in hell Skinner would give her job back to her.

The truth was, a huge part of her wanted to stay here. The only reason why she'd go back to DC is to be with Mulder. But if she went back only for him, and something didn't work out, they'd be ruined for good. She wasn't sure she'd get an opportunity like Dartmouth ever again.

"I don't know," she admitted, hesitantly. "I just don't know."

Mulder felt like he'd been slapped in the face.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he growled.

"I mean I don't know, Mulder." Scully felt a bit annoyed at his reaction. How can expect her to pack up and leave? She'd just fucking moved out here! "I signed a contract Mulder. I just got here. There's no way in hell Skinner could retract my resignation letter, it's been too long. And even if he did, I sure as hell wouldn't get assigned to the X-Files again!"

Mulder began to panic. Did she really want to stay?


	11. Chapter 11

What a wicked game you play  
To make me feel this way  
What a wicked thing to do  
To make me dream of you

-"Wicked Games", Chris Isaac

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"Scully, Skinner was the one who threatened me to come out here, not that I needed threatening to come to you," Mulder said, attempting to be calm and rational, but feeling desperate and panicked instead. "But he was the one who blew into my – _OUR_ – office and broke the news about you and reamed _my_ ass, so I'm pretty damn sure he'd give you your job back! He said you were one of his best agents!"

Scully felt terrible. This was not what she meant to convey at all. She was just scared of getting hurt, of losing herself.

"Mulder," she said, speaking softly. "Since you've known me, I've been alone. I haven't had to consider another person. I'm terrible at this, and the way I feel for you Mulder… I've never felt this way for another person in my entire life. I'm afraid of screwing this up, so my heart does damage control before I can even think about it."

She shifted back a bit, needing her space to feel stronger.

"Scully, do you trust me?" Mulder asked.

It was a simple question. Of course she did. Hell, she trusted him with her life.

"Of course I do, Mulder. You know I do. There is no one I trust more than you, not even my own mother."

"Scully I know you trust me in that capacity, but do you trust me with your heart?"

Scully's brow furrowed. Of course she did… right? It's not like she's ever trusted another person with her heart. It was the one thing she could never give to another person. No one was ever deserving of it in the first damn place.

Mulder was different, though. He knew Scully, inside an out, whether she liked it or not. He has gone to the ends of the earth (literally), for her. He knew her flaws, even when they were ugly and out in the open. He accepted her just as she was, she didn't have to pretend to be someone else.

It was evident to her that here, at Dartmouth, she was pretending to be someone she wasn't. She was sanitizing her past and going through the motions of life. No know knew her story, and she didn't want anyone to know her. Not even Meredith.

"Scully?" Mulder asked gently. "Did I lose you there?"

She shook her head, frowning.

"Mulder, to answer your question, I've never trusted anyone, ever, with my heart. It's just the way I'm wired. I could never give my heart to anyone. It's the one thing I never give."

He looked crestfallen at her words.

"But," she continued, touching his face tenderly, in reassurance. "It's different with you. I love you, more than you could ever know, Mulder. So the short answer is yes, I trust you completely, with my heart, with my life, with it all. I'm just so afraid of losing me, or of ever losing you."

Mulder's heart melted at her admission. Today he's seen an entire new side to his partner, one that was loving, open, and oh-so-sexy. God, she was so precious.

"I'm not going anywhere, Scully. I'm not. There is nothing you could ever say or do to make me leave, unless you wanted me to leave. I will fight for you. When you left, I didn't fight for you, because I was too scared and too heartbroken, and you deserve someone to fight for you. I'm that guy. I'm the guy who fights."

Scully smiled, knowing that was exactly what she needed to hear to calm her fears. She felt a lump in her throat, and this time allowed it.

Placing his hands on either side of her face, Mulder continued, periodically wiping tears away with his thumbs.

"I've seen the good, the bad, the ugly, Scully. I want it all. I am in love with it all. Your heart, your mind, your soul… and Christ, that sexy body."

She smiled then, climbing into his lap, and slowly guided him back, until he was lying on the couch, and she was straddling him. Placing a palm on either side of his head, she leaned down and kissed him slowly, before traveling lower, feathering kisses along his jawline, down to his neck. Finding his pulse, she alternated between nipping and sucking, inhaling the intoxicating that was so incredibly masculine, so incredibly Mulder.

"Sculllyyyyyyy," Mulder growled. "Christ, you have no idea what you do to me."

She smiled into his neck and shifted her hips, meeting his, and pressed into his rather obvious erection.

"I think I do know, actually," she whispered wryly, not bothering to stop her ministrations as Mulder began to writhe under her, from his arousal, which was close to painful at this point. Amazing to him, since he'd just come an hour ago.

Scully felt her own arousal building, but that would have to wait, she had other plans for Mulder first. Moving from his neck, she migrated south, smoothing her hands down the plane of his chest, over his t-shirt, her mouth trailing, until she reached where his t-shirt met the waist of his jean. Pushing his shirt up, revealing his torso, she began to kiss the skin just below his navel. She periodically glanced back up at him, wanting to see if he was watching her.

Mulder's nerve endings were on fire with anticipation. He jumped when Scully's hands reached the button of his jeans, now knowing fully what Scully intended to do to him.

It was one thing to sit late at night in his apartment and imagine taking Scully in various positions, imagining her reactions, her sounds, her taste. But to think about the possibility of that amazing mouth of hers wrapped around his cock – fully willing – it was a whole other thing.

He glanced down at her, as she began to unbutton and unzip his jeans. She made no effort to take them off; she simply reached in, into his boxers, and ran her hand down the length of him, causing Mulder to involuntarily buck his hips into her hand, craving the contact.

Pulling his cock out, Scully lowered her head, almost touching the tip with her mouth.

"What do you want, Mulder?" she whispered.

Feeling her breath hit his cock, he nearly screeched at the sensation, gripping either side of the couch in order to maintain control.

"Scully, I want you," he said, his breathe labored.

She smiled sweetly, slowly stroking the length of him again.

"I know you want me, but specifically what is it that you want right now, Mulder?" she asked. "What do you want me to do?"

Holy shit. Did Scully like to talk dirty in bed? She was so buttoned-up, so straight-laced every day, that this notion shocked the hell out of him. So non-sequitor, so unbelievably sexy. Still, he couldn't ask, he wasn't sure what it was she wanted.

"You know exactly what I want," he said, through clenched teeth. Her mouth was millimeters away from where he wanted her… just one upward thrust and he could make contact. Mulder was slowly losing his resolve.

"Ask me, Mulder. Tell me," she said, a bit more firmly, tightening her grip on his now painfully erect cock, before leaning up until her mouth was right next to her ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret about me," she purred into his ear. "It turns me on when you ask, or tell me, explicitly, what you want me to do."

"Christ Scully," he screeched. "Please, god, I just want you to… Suck on me Scully, I want you to put my cock in your mouth!"

He heard her moan softly at his desperate request, and then took him completely in her mouth, without hesitation.

Mulder groaned instantly, and felt he may actually die from the sheer pleasure of this sensation. Her mouth was hot and wet, and as her head began to bob up and down, he felt her tongue swiping the length of him with each painstaking stroke. He was going to come undone very soon, he just knew it.

"Scullyyyyyyyyyyy," he cried. "God Scully, your mouth feels amazing."

She hummed in response, and he felt the vibrations on his ultra sensitive cock. Scully continued swallowing the length of him, keeping a steady rhythm that she knew would be the end of Mulder any minute now.

Mulder felt himself tighten, his orgasm coiling low in his stomach. He reached out and touched the back of Scully's head.

"Scullyyyy…" he struggled.

He wanted to let her know he was going to come, in case she wanted him to finish inside of her. But Scully, understanding what Mulder was trying to say, placed her free hand flat on his stomach, and began to hum with each stroke she took, sending Mulder over the edge, into oblivion.

"SCULLY!" he cried, his grip tightening on her hair, as his orgasm shot through him, and he came hard into her mouth. Scully rode it out, swallowing every last drop of him.

He sank back into the couch, pulling Scully with him; feeling like his bones had turned to rubber. He nuzzled her neck, in awe about her combination of generosity and naughtiness that was so unexpected.

"You… you are so fucking sexy Scully," he said, he voice sounding like gravel.

She smiled in appreciation at him, her eyes appearing dark blue from her pent-up arousal.

"Scully," he whispered. "I wanna make you come too."

She grasped his face, gently, appreciating his generosity. She loved this man so much. She couldn't believe they waited this long.

"It's okay," she said. "I wanted to do that for you, Mulder. I'll take a raincheck on it."

She was silently hoping that tonight they would get the opportunity tonight to make love. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy what they had been doing, but that was based out of pure, raw, need. What she needed tonight was Mulder sinking slowly into her, she needed candles, and she wanted them to take their time.

Mulder, understanding what it was that Scully needed and wanted, he tightened his embrace around her.

"Tonight," he whispered.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note: this is another story I neglected with life got crazy and then I moved, but I love this story and I want some good closure. I was torn on the ending, this did not evolve the way I expected it to, but I love it even more for going against the grain. This is so different from what I've normally done. I do promise I will put it to rest in a few chapters and I will be quick about it. Thanks again for reading! You guys keep me writing! :)

* * *

What you say, without words

Resuscitates what was numb inside.

So repair me every thread of me.

Cause you're bringing me back to life.

I'll be ok cause you heal me.

And I give you all my pieces broken.

In your hands there's nothin' that you can't fix

- "Stitch by Stitch", Javier Colon

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"More water miss?" the waiter asked, appearing out of nowhere.

Scully nodded in response, fiddling with her napkin in her lap after he left. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, feeling the tablecloth brush her thigh. She was fidgety. There was a discussion to be had, and she was dreading having it.

From across the table, Mulder cleared his throat uncomfortably.

The pair had gone to dinner at a nice cozy restaurant close to campus. It was busy but intimate, the lighting low, and the menu small yet diverse.

The setting appealed to Mulder because it was so different, so unlike them. Here they were, in New England somewhere, on one of the best (arguably) campuses out there, full of bright minds. As an Oxford graduate, he could appreciate it. It was also so separate from their old lives, full of suits, old coffee, and the faint mildew smell of the basement office.

He was beginning to see Scully in a new light. The stress created by the drama that had gone down between them these past few months had taken a toll on Scully – he could tell in her eyes, the second he saw her in the classroom. But now, here at dinner, their feelings were out on the line. Scully was relaxed, seemingly worry-free. She was even dressed differently than the Dana Scully he knew.

She was dressed in jeans – JEANS! Ones that hug her hips snugly and had a waistline that hit below the bellybutton. She wore a baby blue, ribbed long-sleeve t-shirt, and a fashionable scarf hung from her neck. She looked ten years younger and so carefree.

Only a few months had passed them by, but it seemed like an eternity, where everything changed.

Seeing Scully in this manner made Mulder conflicted - but it also made him think. How fair was it to expect her to go back to DC with him? She'd made a new life here; she'd left – as per his request. A request he didn't expect her to follow through on, but never the less, this was his own fault.

He knew two things for sure. One, he knew he loved this woman with every fiber of his being and would do anything for her. This was not a shocking or new revelation. Two, Mulder wanted Scully to be happy – in a way she'd never had the opportunity to be. Their job offered Scully no stability. She'd been taken; she'd gotten cancer, and was left barren. He had no idea why she stayed, year after year. But he knew that had a shelf life, just like everything else. And after today, after everything – he couldn't bear to lose her again, because he knew in his heart, this was their very last chance.

"Mulder?" Scully said softly, stirring him out of his musing.

He looked up at her, reaching across the table, covering her hand with his, shivering at the touch, wondering if it would always be like that between them.

A smile tugged at Scully's lips as she looked down at their hands. She needed this. Him.

"Can I ask you something, Scully?"

Her eyes met his. "Of course you can."

"Well, I already asked you this once today, but I had other motives when I asked last time, and I don't have those same motives this time, actually…" he trailed off.

Scully's eyebrow shot up, in typical Dana Scully fashion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you happy here?"

She immediately opened her mouth to respond, but Mulder shushed her. "I want you to answer me honestly Scully. I want your happiness more than anything."

Scully waged an internal battle for several moments before answering. She didn't want to have to choose between this life and Mulder, and she knew if he asked her to choose, she would choose him. It was just the natural order of things.

But she thought of DC, she thought of their old life, and she felt darkness, with Mulder as the only light shining into her life. It wasn't a way to live. She thought of all that she'd lost, that Mulder lost from their near decade of fighting for the truth. And what did they have to show for it?

Sighing deeply, Scully averted her eyes.

"Don't do that Scully," Mulder pleaded. "Please, don't turn away from me."

Why was this so damn hard? She was so afraid to let go with him – despite the fact that it was all she wanted to do all along.

After several moments of silence passed, she finally spoke.

"Yes, I am happy here Mulder," she began, choosing her words wisely. "I'm happy professionally, and in an ideal situation, I could see myself a hundred percent happy."

Expecting that answer, Mulder pressed her again.

"What is your ideal situation?"

She didn't want to answer this because she was so afraid to tell him. But she knew she had to, it was the only road to getting exactly what she dreamt of all these years.

"Honestly, Mulder, my ideal situation is you with me."

"Here?"

"Here," she said confidently. "But if it comes to personal happiness with you or professional happiness here, I think you know my choice, Mulder."

His heart warmed at her words. He knew she'd say that, but it felt good to hear it.

"Baby, I'm not asking you to choose. I just want you to tell me what you want."

Scully tried, unsuccessfully, to push the lump in her throat down.

"Mulder," she said, her voice cracking. "I just want to be with you. I have you now, and I don't want to lose you again. These past few months have been hell. But I think of DC and the Bureau, and all that they have taken from the both of us, and I feel so dark. I don't want that darkness near us."

Forgetting the other people in the restaurant, Mulder scooted his chair back and stood up. He strode over to Scully, and got down on both his knees, in front of her chair. Grabbing both of her hands, he looked up into her blue orbs; he could tell she was holding back the tears.

"Scully," he whispered roughly. "I want you. I want US. Jesus, don't you know I'd drop everything in a heartbeat for you? If you want to stay here, then we stay here. If you want to go back to DC, then we will go. If you want to run away to Vegas, I will go wherever you go. I just want you to be happy. I don't want something with you because it's geographically convenient to me. I want you, in whatever capacity I can have you, please, if you'll have me."

She pulled his face to hers, sharing several soft kisses, before Mulder pulled back, cradling her face in his hands tenderly.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mulder smiled. "And I love you," he said, punctuating with one more kiss, before retreating back to his side of the table.

They relaxed back into their seats, both glad the tension was gone, and for the first time since Mulder arrived, they could genuinely enjoy their time together.

"I hate to be the killjoy here Mulder, but what are you going to do out here?" she asked. "The closest FBI field office is in Boston."

Mulder chewed his bread thoughtfully at her question. Scully was right about the darkness. He'd spent his whole life searching for the truth, when maybe the truth was right in front of him. Life didn't have to be as hard as they made it out to be so often.

"I've got my doctorate too," he mused. "Maybe I could teach. Or maybe I could write, I'm not sure."

Scully smiled at the idea of them together out here, both teaching at Dartmouth. It was a far cry from the life they led before. And it felt so good.

"I'm not sure yet, Scully," he said honestly, pausing, as the waiter came by to deliver their food to them. "What I do know is that I want to spend time with you, work on us, and we can figure out together, what is good for us. Until then, let's eat and worry later."

"Sounds good to me."

The remainder of the meal passed without incident. Mulder pressed Scully for details and stories about her job. The more she talked, the more he felt at ease with the decision. He could tell this is what she truly loved doing.

Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the inevitable, knocking at their door, but as the evening progressed, the air seemingly changed, they felt that sense of urgency. He brushed her hand more; he saw her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. He felt her leg purposely touch his.

The waiter arrived with the check, and Mulder threw his credit card at him, not even bothering to look at the bill. After they had paid, the pair shrugged their coats on. Heading out the door to the car, Mulder followed Scully, and wrapped his arms around her from behind as they went outside, the cold wind cutting them in the face.

"What do you say Scully, you want to take this party back to your place?" He whispered roughly into her ear.

She left out a breath and closed her eyes, nearly whimpering. "God yes."


	13. Chapter 13

Not everybody

Knows how to work my body

Knows how to make me want it

Boy you stay up on it

You got that something

That keeps me so off balance

Baby you're a challenge

- "What's My Name", Rihanna & Drake

* * *

Scully barely remembered the drive home. The only thing she could focus on was the burning feeling of Mulder's hand on her thigh, and how he didn't even bother to hide his erection.

By the time they pulled into Scully's complex and parked, they made a beeline to the door. Scully fiddled with the keys in her shaky hands, finally unlocking the door. Mulder gestured for Scully to go in first. He closed the door behind him and reached out and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. Mulder yanked hard, probably harder than he should have, slamming her body into the door.

He almost felt bad at his near use of force, until Scully's surprised look melted into an aroused look, her eyes darkened. He trapped her wrists above her head against the door with one of his large hands, while his other hand and his mouth began to explore her.

Mulder lavished her neck with his tongue, while his hand snaked up her shirt, to touch her breasts. Scully cried out, at the sensation of his tongue on her neck, sucking and biting softly, as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"You like that?" he whispered roughly into her ear.

She moaned uncontrollably in response. He's reduced her to nothing but pure, raw lust.

"Jesus Scully, do you know how long I've imagined what it would be like to hear you make those sounds? Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

He punctuated that thought by rolling his hips into hers, making his hardness evident to her. When his erection bumped her apex, through her jeans, she cried out, needing him to touch her more.

"Tell me what you want… how you're feeling Scully."

"Touch me, Mulder," she panted. "I feel like I am going to die if I don't feel your hands on me."

Mulder groaned at her words. In one fluid motion, he pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside. The image before him was the sexiest thing he has ever seen in his life. Scully, pressed against the front door, her alabaster skin contrasting with the smoky blue paint of the door. Her full breasts held back by a lacy black bra, which was a bit crooked on her, he could see just a millimeter of her dark rose-colored nipple peeking out from the cup of the bra. Her chest heaved slightly, as she panted. Her crimson hair was wavy and wild, and her eyes were dark with arousal.

His eyes trailed down her taut abdomen to the low-slung waist of her jeans. There was something absolutely delicious about Scully in these jeans. But that didn't mean they would stay on her long.

Taking his time, he feathered light kisses down her stomach, feeling her squirm. He loved discovering new erogenous zones. He was sure to file that one away for future use. When he reached the waist of her jeans with his mouth, he unbuttoned them, and slowly unzipped the zipper.

Scully was slowly going insane. She felt possessed, like she was having some sort of outer body experience. (Of course she wouldn't bring that one up to Mulder – now, or ever). He was torturing her – and it was sweet torture.

She watched him slowly slide her jeans down her legs, his mouth following his hands, tracing his path with the tip of his tongue. She squirmed and stepped dutifully out of her pants and kicked them aside.

Mulder was kneeling now, eye level with her panties. He kissed her exactly where she wanted him to, only outside of her panties. He placed several chaste kisses, while Scully squirmed and moaned in protest.

"Mulder, you're killing me here," she managed, breathlessly.

He chuckled softly. "That's the point."

However, he did have mercy on Scully and her pleading eyes, and slide her panties down, and whisked them away when she stepped out of them. He could smell her arousal, and he knew it was going to be nothing short of a miracle to keep himself in check and make this last. He wanted her too much and for too long.

Boldly, he placed an open-mouthed kiss at her apex, tasting her wetness. Scully nearly screamed out in pleasure. She was trembling with anticipation and with desire. She was sure she'd never been this turned on ever in her life.

His fingers were magic, as he slid them into her slick, snug center. She groaned and spread her legs wider, and waves of pleasure traveled up her spine as his fingers began to move in and out of her skillfully.

Mulder looked up at Scully, he watched her eyes close and her head lull back against the door. She gripped the doorknob for balance as she began to chant his name in a breathless litany.

"Mulder, please, Mulder, Jesus, uhhhh!"

Mulder was painfully hard at this point and he knew he had to stop and move to her bedroom or else this would end embarrassingly for him. He slowed his ministrations, and extracted his fingers from her, knowing she was close to coming and was likely going to be pissed.

They glistened with her wetness, and he brought them to his mouth for a taste, dragging his tongue up his fingers, as Scully watched, mouth open – a combination of arousal and shock.

"Bedroom. Now," she huffed.

They made their way to the bedroom. En route, Scully reached behind her and unhooked her bra, leaving it in the hallway as they entered her room. Scully closed the door behind them, and turned to her dresser, lighting the few candles that were scattered on there. Once they were lit, she snicked off her lamp, and the soft light of the candles enveloped them in the darkness.

For a moment, they stood there, staring at each other, as if in a trance. Scully blinked, shook her head for a moment, and made her way towards Mulder, who was still fully clothed, while she was completely naked.

"The clothes have got to go, g-man," she said coyly, as she placed both palms on his chest and pushed him firmly back onto the bed. She crawled on top of him, tugging at his shirt. He raised his arms and she pulled it off of him.

Feeling the warmth of his skin against hers was kerosene to the fire. She pinned him to the bed and kissed him with a ferocity she was unaware existed within herself. Mulder reached up, not breaking their kiss, to cradle her head, and brush the stray crimson locks out of her face.

As she kissed him, she unconsciously began grinding her hips into his, though he still had pants on, she sought that contact she so desperately needed. Mulder was hypersensitive and broke the kiss, moving his hands to steady her hips.

"Scully, we have to slow it down or I am not going to make it much longer, cos I want you too much," he whispered, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I want to make this perfect for you."

She smiled down at him. How did they wait all these years to do this?

Mulder stood up, moving Scully aside. He took his pants and boxer briefs off, tossing them in a heap in the corner by her door. When he turned back to her, there she was, perched on all fours, eyeing his cock with a predatory look.

That look made his mouth go dry and all the blood flowing in his body go directly to his erection, which at this point was cutting off his ability to even think properly.

He approached the bed.

"Scully, lean back," he murmured. He wanted to taste her again, badly.

She didn't move from her all-fours stance. Clearly there was about to be a power struggle in her bedroom. Only this time there weren't winners and losers… everyone was a winner in the end.

"Fine, have it your way," he said cockily.

He walked around to the other side of the bed, and she didn't move. He crawled up on the bed, and stood on his knees, behind her now, his hands running up and down her ass cheeks.

She moaned loudly, and buried her face into the bed, leaning down on her forearms now. This worked in Mulder's benefit, because her position now raised her ass up, exposing exactly what he wanted.

Without hesitation, he leaned in and dragged his tongue across her wetness, dipping his tongue slightly into her entrance. Her hips bucked wildly as he encroached upon the area she most wanted him at. He went at her now, fingers, tongue, full speed, wanting to give her what she wanted: release.

She felt every movement like fire. His oral fixation was something that she was thankful for, because his mouth was magical, and the things he made her feel and do – it was unprecedented. Within minutes, she was coming hard, her walls clenching around his fingers, her wetness now everywhere.

He rode out her orgasm with her, slowing his movements, ensuring every movement prolonged her pleasure. When he was sure she was finished, he extracted his fingers and leaned up, pressing his hips into her ass, his cock pressing into her entrance.

She wildly flipped around and pulled him to her. As he leaned over top of her, he looked down into her eyes, which glittered like sapphires in the candlelight.

"Christ, you're beautiful, Scully."

She felt her throat thick with tears, but willed them away. They'd cried enough today. Tonight was about them, about their future.

She reached between them and stroked the length of him. His eyes closed and he groaned at the contact. Scully pressed the tip of him at her entrance, and Mulder froze. He wanted her so badly, but he was afraid he'd come any second now, despite the fact that he'd already come twice today. Clearly even his dick was making up for lost time.

Amazingly, she knew what he was thinking, it seemed.

"It's okay Mulder, I know you're close. I just want you inside me. I've already come once tonight – I just want to make you feel good now."

And with that, he slid into her, buried to the hilt. They both groaned in unison at the sensation. Mulder gritted his teeth as he gave a few preliminary strokes, gauging his sensitivity. He seemed to be okay, and began to move inside her more confidently.

He watched her as he made love to her, admiring her sounds, admiring how her breasts bounced with every down stroke. She was like a drug. He couldn't get enough of her taste, her smell, her sounds – and most of all, her touch.

Eventually, instinct drove them both – the instinct to collectively seek release. As Mulder bumped that perfect spot inside Scully that made her nearly spontaneously combust (another secret she'd never share with him), she grabbed the flesh of his ass, applying pressure.

"Oh Jesus, right there Mulder!"

Doing as he was told, he stroked long and hard into her, driving into that one spot with precision, over and over again, until he felt her body grow taut, and she cried out in pleasure. Her walls clamped around the length of him, and like a domino effect, he felt himself expand within her, growing harder, before he came in her, driving into her, over and over again, until he collapsed on top of her.

They were sweaty and out of breath, but made no attempt to separate. Scully was practically out of it. She had been so horny, and on top of it, she was feeling a bit buzzed from the wine from dinner. But the weight of Mulder felt so good on top of her.

Mulder's face was buried in the crook of her neck, as he attempted to regain consciousness. She played with the soft hair on the back of his neck, stroking him softly there, tenderly.

Eventually, he looked up at her.

"Scully," he said in awe.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling almost shy and she wasn't sure way. She shouldn't feel shy after having. bar none, the best sex of her life.

He smiled at her. "And I love you."

A yawn overtook her. Mulder glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Eleven-thirty. They'd been going at it for nearly two hours now. Jesus.

He chuckled at the thought. So much had changed in 24 hours.

"Let's sleep, Scully. We'll deal with everything else tomorrow."

And they did.


	14. Epilogue

We run on fumes  
Your life and mine  
Like the sands of time  
Slippin' right on through  
And our love's the only truth  
That's why I run to you

This world keeps spinning faster  
Into a new disaster so I run to you  
I run to you baby  
And when it all starts coming undone  
Baby you're the only one I run to  
I run to you

-"Run To You", Lady Antebellum

* * *

Epilogue

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

"I think that's all I've got for now, unless anyone has any questions…?" Fox Mulder trailed off, his eyes perusing his class of about forty.

They stared back at him wordlessly, looking ready to edge out once he gave the word. It was the last class before finals week. Mulder remembered that feeling all too well.

"Okay, since no one has anything you're dismissed. Remember your final exam will be in Hubert hall, room ten-thirteen, at two o'clock, and NOT in this building on Thursday."

With that, the students slowly filed out of the class and Mulder turned around to erase the chalkboard and gather his things. His first term as Dr. Mulder was coming to an end, and he had to admit, he was excited for the next term as well, even if it was summer term, which generally drew less students.

After Mulder came to Scully in New Hampshire, he knew he wanted to be with her – and nothing else mattered. Scully pulled some strings for him, and he was now a faculty member of the psychology department at Dartmouth. He taught both undergraduate intro classes and specialty courses. Next term he was teaching a graduate-level paranormal psychology class, which filled up almost immediately. The department was giving him a research grant to help become reestablished in the field, write journal articles, and mentor graduate students.

Suffice to say, Mulder was loving it. He never thought in his lifetime he'd ever be able to have his cake and eat it too. He was able to still research and investigate the paranormal, and he was able to have a life with Scully – one that didn't involve cancer, deaths, or conspiracies.

It had been hard to send in that resignation letter to Skinner. He knew he was doing the right thing and he knew Scully was back at home waiting on him to pack what very few belongings he wanted and to get rid of the rest and get his butt back to New Hampshire.

The X-Files still existed, Mulder was sure to oversee that happening. New agents by the name of Reyes and Doggett were the new agents assigned to the X-Files. When he was cleaning out their office, he bumped into them. They seemed nice enough. Agent Reyes reminded him a lot of himself, actually. The thing that made Mulder feel good about leaving was that the Bureau agreed to leave Mulder on the payroll as a consultant to the X-Files. It was interesting to see that through the transition of power, how much he had changed, how much Scully had changed, and how they were in such different places than before.

It wasn't a bad thing though. It was a good thing, and it felt good too.

His relationship with Scully had blossomed quite nicely. They'd moved into a three-bedroom townhome together, converting one of the spare bedrooms into their office space. While he loved Dana Scully with every fiber of his being, living with her was sometimes a challenge. They were both used to living on their own, and they were both used to working in a job that had no set schedule. Once they fell into a routine, it was perfect.

He loved how they could work together but separately. He loved that he didn't have that anxiety when she wasn't there. He knew she was on the other side of campus, hard at work.

"Hey you…" a familiar alto interrupted his thoughts.

Mulder placed the eraser in the chalk holder and spun around to see Dana Scully, white coat and all, standing in the doorway of his classroom. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was leaning into the doorframe, tossing him a wry smile.

"Well hello, Scully," he said, smiling genuinely. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I cut lab short today since it was the last one of the semester. I wanted to give everyone time to study for my final next week."

"I hear your finals are a real peach, Scully," he said, picking up his bag with a chuckle.

He scooted in his chair, flicked off the light, and headed towards her, wrapping his arm around her when he saw her.

She snuggled into him, glad to see him today, earlier than she expected.

"They're only bad if you don't study," she sad matter-of-factly.

"Have you had lunch yet?"

She shook her head and looked at her watch. It was about one forty-five. Somehow she always managed to lose track of time.

"Wanna hit up Dorian's? I could use a good cup of coffee and a Panini and just relax on one of the sofas with you."

Scully smiled at the idea. "Sounds perfect."

Dorian's had become their go-to place, hitting it up probably three times a week. This semester, their schedules weren't too different. The medical school ran on a slightly different scheduling system than the arts and science college Mulder's department fell under. While they did not have courses on Fridays, and Mulder used that day to as a research day, Fridays were Scully's busiest day, as she had fellowship students in the morgue, teaching forensics. The other days of the week, they were both generally finished by early afternoon, and usually spent time together at Dorian's.

The pair walked hand-in-hand across the quad towards their hangout.. It was a beautiful May afternoon. Many students were out on the quad, lying out on blankets, studying, tossing Frisbees. It was a good scene.

It was a pleasant fifteen-minute walk to Dorian's, and neither minded. They walked in comfortable silence, both of them thinking about their days, and their plans for the two weeks they both have off before summer term starts.

Once Mulder reached the familiar entrance, he held the door open for Scully, allowing her to enter first. He quickly followed, placing his hand in the all-too-familiar position on the small of her back.

"What are you getting Scully?" he asked, peering up at the menu, which was written in multi-colored chalk on the back wall.

"My usual combo," she answered, surveying the crowd. It wasn't as crowded as it usually was. Scully suspected since finals were on the horizon students were outside enjoying the sunshine while they could. "Want me to go snag us a couch?"

"Sure go ahead," he said, distractedly.

Scully sank down into the light pink soft by the window. It was her favorite place to sit because she could people watch outside. It was often taken though, so she was pleased to find it free.

A few moments later, Mulder joined her, placing their mugs of coffee on the table in front of the couch and took a seat next to her, closing any distance between them, allowing their shoulders to touch lightly, before putting his arm around her. Scully rested her head on his shoulder, scooting into the embrace and sighed contentedly.

"We're number thirty-seven," he said, holding up their receipt.

She nodded. "Have we decided on a final plan for vacation yet? I want to get back to my mother."

At the moment they were deciding between having Scully's mother up for a visit for a long weekend during their break or taking a long weekend back to DC and staying with Mrs. Scully.

"It's up to you, dear. I'm content either way," he said, tossing in the term of endearment facetiously, knowing Scully's reaction.

"I think I want to go back to DC, actually," she said, shocking Mulder. The pair enjoyed their bubble of academia and he figured Scully wouldn't want to leave it, especially to go back to DC, after leaving on way different terms.

"I'd like to see the guys and see Skinner," Mulder said. "And I'd like to introduce you to the new agents who took over the X-Files."

She nodded in agreement. It would be a strange visit for sure. She wondered how Mulder would do – if he'd miss it, or want to go back.

The barista called out their number, and Mulder got up to get their food. He returned to a pensive Scully.

"What's wrong, Scully?" he said, sitting the tray down in front of them.

"Nothing, I-" she began.

"Spit it out."

She sighed and fiddled with her sandwich for a moment before speaking.

"I just, I'm scared to go back and you regret your decision of coming here," she said, eyeing him to gauge his reaction.

Mulder grabbed her hands. "Never, Scully."

"But-"

"No," he said firmly. "I will never regret us, in any capacity. If I regret moving here, then I regret us, Scully, and I could never."

"What makes you so sure you aren't going to resent me in a year or two once the newness wears off?" she asked, looking down now to study their hands.

"Scully, when you left, it was like reality dropped this huge atomic bomb on me," he said. When I didn't know where you went or if you were coming back, I was no good. I'm no good without you."

She smiled softly at that. "But your work?"

"The X-Files is in good hands. I still have a small connection and say-so with it. Meanwhile, I get to pursue my own interests here, with no one to really put parameters on it."

He pulled her into an embrace, burying his face into her neck, kissing her there.

"And best of all," he murmured. "I get to come home to you every day, and I get to be with you in a way I'd only dreamt about for so long. So no. I'll never regret this. You woke me up by leaving. I'm sorry for it in a way because it was a hard time for both of us, but I am thankful you did it, because we'd probably be in DC still with our heads up our asses about each other."

She pulled out of his embrace to look him in the eye. She smiled then, and kissed him on the lips ever so gently.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I needed to hear that."

He placed his hands on her face, smoothing a knuckle down the soft skin of her cheek.

"We left the Bureau and the X-Files in good hands and on good terms. I imagine if we would ever decide we want to go down that road again, all we'd have to do is call Skinner. So don't worry about it too much. For now, lets make this our time."

Satisfied with the conversation, they turned to enjoy their lunch and their afternoon with each other, savoring their time together.

After all, you never know what the future holds.


End file.
